


Stay Another Day

by EdnaMode101



Category: BinJin - Fandom, 사랑의 불시착 | Crash Landing on You (TV), 사랑의 불시착 | Crash Landing on You (TV) RPF
Genre: Awkward Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25350637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdnaMode101/pseuds/EdnaMode101
Summary: Trapped in the Hermit Kingdom, Seri's far from her glossy Gangnam life. Trading in her penthouse for a cozy cottage and solitude for the company of stoic but kind Captain Ri, Seri finds a new definition of home in the most unlikely place.
Relationships: Ri Jeong-Hyeok/Yoon Se-Ri, RiRi - Relationship, binjin
Comments: 123
Kudos: 199





	1. Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> There was never a dull moment in CLOY but I've always wondered about the quiet, mundane moments in between. 
> 
> I've been dithering and dilly-dallying over this for over a month now and I finally decided to just go for it. Thanks to rulesTheGalaxy for the encouragement! You guys should check out 'Front Page News' - it's excellent!

Seri gasped and sat upright.

Something woke her. Wisps of her dream still lingering before her, her eyes were wide as she looked around in confusion. She clutched the comforter to her chest. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

_Omo. What kind of a dream was that?_

A deep voice boomed in the background and Seri yelped.

There he was, the man of her dreams – literally. Just a few seconds ago, he had been the star attraction in her dream where he had been very hot and very naked and doing some very adult things to her. There he was, standing in the kitchen doorway, hair neatly combed and very much clothed in his military uniform. He was holding a cup and staring at her.

She sensed that he had asked her a question. “What?” she croaked.

“I asked if you’re alright. You looked like you were having a bad dream,” said Jeong-hyeok. “Are you okay?”

He tilted his head a fraction and regarded her in concern. “Your face is a bit...”

Her palms flew to her cheeks. They felt sweaty.

“Yes,” she said, all traces of sleep gone. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I was having a -”

_A sex dream._

“Um...”

_About you._

“I need to use the bathroom,” she said.

She stood so abruptly from the sleeping mat that she felt lightheaded. In an attempt to sprint to the bathroom, her right foot got tangled in the sheets, eliciting a squeak before she quickly regained her balance.

Jeong-hyeok flinched but she held up her palm.

“I’m okay,” she called out without looking back.

With a deep breath, she smoothed down her sweater, straightened up to her full 5’4 feet and, with whatever shred of dignity she had left, marched to the bathroom and shut the door.

He watched in amusement from the kitchen.

For Jeong-hyeok, mornings often slid from one to the next, each forgettable in their monotony. Lately, he found himself looking forward to the start of each day.

Some days, he would open his bedroom door to find her still asleep.

With black socks treading towards the kitchen, he would be careful to avoid the creaky spots on the old oak floor. She probably didn’t know it, but she snored. Soft, little rumbling snores that made him smile.

Other times, he would wake to find her sitting cross-legged, nose buried in one of his books with a cup of coffee waiting for him on the table.

Se-ri would often greet him with a bright smile and he’d politely nod his acknowledgement.

She was, quite possibly, the strangest and most frustrating woman he’d ever met.

He wasn’t sure how someone he barely knew was so adept at pushing his buttons. Those eyes that could soften in a way that made him catch his breath could flash daggers in an instant, forcing him to frantically recall what he had just said or done.

For the past two weeks, mornings in his cottage have certainly been far from dull.

* * *

In the bathroom, Se-ri leaned over the basin gripping the edge of the wooden countertop.

She stared at the mirror. Her face was flushed. Three-bottles-of-soju flushed. Strands of hair had slipped from the loose braid and clung to the sides of her face.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

Her brain saw this as an opportunity to replay highlights from her dream in high definition. Scenes and sensations flooded back with startling, toe-curling clarity.

Jeong-hyeok’s fingers entangled in her hair, his soft lips kissing her neck, teeth gently nipping at the soft skin. Her moaning against him as her hands explored his chest. His large hand gripping her thigh under her skirt to pull her closer to his-

 _Ohmygod_. Her eyes flew open. _Stoppppstopitstopit,_ she thought, swatting away the pornographic images with her hand. She stared at her horrified reflection.

Se-ri hurriedly splashed water on her hot face as if putting out a fire. _Get a grip_ , she told herself as she dabbed her face dry with a towel.

She was hardly a prude – the detritus of her dating life was proof of that. But this was wildly inappropriate.

Sure, she delighted in teasing Jeong-Hyeok about being her type. Any female with eyes would consider him her type. Had he strolled past her in Gangnam, she would have peered over her Tom Ford sunglasses to appreciate that side profile, the broad back, that dignified posture and those long legs. With a face like that and cheekbones that could cut glass, she would have assumed he was a model. Or an actor.

Delicious, masculine and lofty, Jeong-hyeok was definitely her type.

But this was neither the time nor the place. He was her guardian of sorts, simply trying to find a way to send her safely back home.

Which was why Se-ri limited herself to teasing him. He scoffed and feigned indifference. But when he thought she wasn’t looking, she caught a hint of dimples from the corner of her eye.

She paused to look at the contents of the wooden shelves. When she arrived, the shelves had been as minimalist as the man who lived here.

Has it really been two weeks since she fell into North Korea? It was starting to look like she lived here.

On the top shelf was Jeong-hyeok’s toothbrush, a tube of moisturizer, a wooden comb, a nail cutter, a jar of cream and a bottle of aftershave. On the middle shelf was a tube of pink lip gloss, her hairbrush, toothbrush and a scrunchie.

The bottom shelf was crowded with an assortment of ma:nyo skincare products that would’ve made its spokesperson proud.

Jeong-hyeok might have gone a little overboard.

She quickly redid her braid and brushed her teeth before patting on some moisturizer.

Se-ri might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but she certainly wasn’t going to let her skincare slide.

She checked her reflection once again.

Back in Seoul, she would have died rather than wear the yellow polo sweater and ankle-length skirt look she was sporting right now. On her feet were Jeong-hyeok’s too-large wool socks.

She looked _so_ provincial - less French country chic, more country bumpkin.

Still, the sweater had been one of the first pieces of clothing that Ri Jeong-Hyeok had procured from the market along with the oversized bras, underwear (thankfully, the right size), clogs and quilted slippers. Even if it wasn’t her style, knowing that he’d chosen them made her feel grateful and other warm emotions she had yet to identify.

Under that façade of indifference and propriety, she could tell he was generous and kind. He could have decided that she wasn’t his problem. Instead, he chose to keep her safe and made her feel at home.

It really was too bad that he lived in North Korea.

As a result, Se-ri was determined to coexist with him sans the inevitable K-drama awkwardness between the male and female lead. She scoffed. They were above that; well, they had to be above that. After all, he was engaged to Seo Dan – he had been very clear about that.

And, at some point, she would be back in Seoul, back to her glorious Gangnam life with Balmain, Pilates and organic oatmeal.

They were merely passing through each other’s lives.

There was no point in dwelling on his thoughtful gestures; they were purely and perfectly platonic. Being with him was comfortable, the way she felt around a close friend. Albeit a six-foot friend with a body sculpted by years of military training. Still, a close friend.

He had been the first to draw the line. Not to be outdone, she swore she’d build her own metaphorical wall over that metaphorical line. _Just you watch, Jyeong-hyeokssi_.

And then there was her dream. So much for drawing the line. Her subconscious was a dirty traitor.

She took a deep breath and left to join him in the kitchen.

* * *

As was his habit by now, Jeong-hyeok poured her some coffee and slid the cup and saucer towards her. She smiled her thanks.

After the failed attempt to send Se-ri to China by boat, it was going to be weeks until they could try the same plan again. Longer still if they had to wait for the patrols to die down. For now, Jeong-Hyeok knew the best way to keep Se-ri safe was by keeping her indoors, by his side and away from prying eyes.

But with her need to ham up her role as his fake fiancé, keeping her out of the spotlight had been near impossible. He almost regretted introducing her as his fiancé. Almost.

Without realizing it, the two of them had fallen into a familiar routine.

If she was awake just before he left, she’d ask him about his plans.

“Oh. Don’t forget to tell that Pyo Chi-su to submit those evaluation papers,” she had reminded him, looking cross. “He missed the deadline last week and you had to work overtime.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again,” he’d assured her, wondering how this woman had somehow become so entangled in his daily affairs.

“What will you do today?” he asked.

“Well, I cleaned the bathroom yesterday so I might do the kitchen,” she said. If she was honest, Jeong-hyeok was tidy so there wasn’t much for her to help out with. There was something quaint about sweeping the floors with a straw broom rather than vacuuming with her Dyson. Besides, it was a character-building exercise. She’ll make sure to include that in her future autobiography.

“Then I think I’ll finish reading _North and South_ ,” she said.

“How are you liking it?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“It’s a romance.”

“Yes.”

“It’s not something I’d expect you to enjoy.”

“What kind of books did you think I’d like?

“Well… depressing ones.”

He smiled that small boyish smile.

But today, mortified by what had just happened, Seri was unusually subdued and appeared to have a newfound interest in the cup’s faded floral design. She’d been using the same white and blue cup since she arrived. Only now did she notice that the flowers weren’t daisies, they were edelweiss.

They stuck to a safer topic: the weather.

It was certainly colder now. The morning air was crisp and lately, he’s had to wear gloves on his bike rides home. His instinct was to offer his bedroom, but he wasn’t sure if that was crossing the line. Still, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t freezing at night.

“I’m fine, it’s not too cold,” she assured him.

He nodded and made a mental note to buy a gas heater on his way home.

In the last few weeks, he’d made more trips to the market than he had in the entire year.

He was a man of very basic needs; his essentials could fit in a small bag. So he was astounded by how many things women required. He found shopping mind-numbing, looking at an unnecessarily wide variety of the same thing.

Over time, he got better at guessing her size. It was just a nanosecond, a flick of a glance over her figure. Sometimes, he wasn’t even aware of it. Never in his life did he think he’d be standing at a market stall trying to decide between a pink or yellow women’s sweater so he got them both.

“This is your third time here, have you found out her size?” the shop attendant had asked.

“Yes. She’s about this size,” he answered confidently, holding his hands out to demonstrate Se-ri’s waist size.

The attendant had given him a pitying look. _Useless_ , thought the middle-aged woman.

Nonetheless, the minor indignities were worth it. He enjoyed Se-ri’s delighted reaction whenever she opened the bag and found little reminders of home. She was trapped indoors all day - he felt it was the least he could do.

For a moment, they stood in companionable silence in the kitchen.

“Did I... say anything while I was asleep?” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He froze mid-sip and peered at her from over the cup.

He wasn’t going to bring it up; he didn’t want to embarrass her. But earlier he had quietly made his way to the kitchen, careful not to wake her. He was brewing coffee and thinking about reports and training exercises when he heard it.

A quiet moan. And then another.

At first, he thought Seri was in pain and nearly took the four steps to reach her.

“Ri Jeong-hyeok-ssi,” she moaned again.

He was about to answer until-

“Yesss...”

She was still asleep.

“So good...”

His eyes widened as realization dawned. Jeong-hyeok remained rooted on the kitchen floor, unsure of what to do next.

“Hmm. Right there...” came the soft, feminine moans from the mound of soft blue bedding on the living room floor.

His ears turned bright red.

 _Should I wake her?_ he wondered.

 _Well, you certainly can’t just stand there listening like a pervert,_ he told himself.

She moaned again.

He cleared his throat. “Yoon Se-ri,” he called out, his voice uncertain.

“Ohh, Jeong-Hyeok-ssi… that’s _so_ bi-”

“Yoon Se-ri!” he had practically bellowed before she could finish her sentence, startling her from the deepest slumber.

Now, he looked at the woman in front of him, standing across the kitchen counter. Her eyes pleading for the answer she hoped to hear.

“No,” he lied. “No, nothing I could make out anyway.”

The relief on her face made his heart flutter.

“Good,” she said, nodding as she picked up her cup with the long sleeves of her sweater. “Good. I was just worried I might have said something wrong and embarrassed myself, you know?”

He looked at her for a moment, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I understand,” he said in a soft voice.


	2. Dirty Laundry

Se-ri couldn't remember the last time she'd done her own laundry.

On weekdays, her housekeeper Hye-mi often cleaned, did her laundry and handled her dry-cleaning. She worked so late, sometimes getting home close to midnight, that it's been a year since she last saw her. But she did mark special occasions and expressed her gratitude with presents and a note left on the kitchen counter.

Earlier in the day, Se-ri had made her way to the market to buy some essentials with the money Jeong-hyeok had given her. While he was basically her personal shopper, there were some items she'd been too embarrassed to add to the list. For most of her life, she only had herself to depend on; it was a strange and foreign feeling having to rely on someone else.

Now, as she sat on a concrete bench in the communal water supply area and grunted as she beat the water out of her clothes with a wooden paddle, she decided that Hye-mi deserved a raise.

 _Splat! Splat!_ There were soapy droplets everywhere. She wasn't quite sure what she was doing, she was simply imitating the older women who had been happily chatting, while beating away at the clothes with practiced ease.

God, her arms hurt.

Since the communal area was often so busy in the mornings, Se-ri thought she'd get in once most of the women had left to cook for their husbands and children. She wanted to avoid the line of questioning. As it was, she still drew a lot of curious stares from locals as she wiped her forehead with her sleeve.

She had been scrubbing the thick military uniform for almost an hour when Hyeon Myeong-Sun approached her.

"Oh! Sam Suk, what are you doing?" asked the older woman.

"Oh, hello," said Se-ri, squinting against the setting sun. She liked the quiet Myeong-Sun. She was sweet, kind and didn't radiate the same judgemental vibes as the other ahjummas. She could see where her son got it from.

"Where are your gloves?"

"Gloves?"

"Yes, you can't handwash clothes without gloves the detergent will burn your skin."

Seri held up her hands covered in soap suds. They had gone numb from the cold water, but they were indeed red.

"Oh, you poor thing," sighed Myeong-Sun.

***

Se-ri walked back to the cottage with the heavy plastic basin full of wet clothes resting against her hip. Exhaustion seeped to her bones. Her back was sore and her fingers were wrinkled and stinging.

 _If my staff could see me now,_ she thought, chuckling to herself.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She almost dropped the basin. God, she hated it when he crept up on her.

Jeong-Hyeok was standing outside the gate, eyebrows furrowed and watching her in disbelief.

"I was washing our clothes," she said defensively, adjusting the weight against her hip. "What does it look like? And stop sneaking up on people like that."

"Why are you washing clothes?"

"Because the laundry was piling up."

"Have you even washed clothes before?"

 _Rude_ , she thought.

"Of course, I've washed clothes before," she retorted.

"By hand?"

She paused.

She'd been about to tell him that she had, in fact, hand washed a cashmere Isabel Marant sweater once in a hotel room sink in Milan. But, from the look on his face, thought better of it. This wasn't her target audience.

He wasn't even trying to hide his smile now.

Se-ri gave him a steely gaze.

Wordlessly, he gently took the basin from her and motioned for her to walk through the gate.

He watched her examining her palms.

Her hands looked raw.

"You can't handwash clothes without gloves here the detergent will burn your skin," he said, echoing Myeong-Sun as they walked towards the backyard.

"Yes, well, I know that now," she muttered.

"Wait here," Jeong-hyeok said, placing the heavy basin on the rear porch and gesturing for her to sit. He quickly untied his boots and headed inside. When he returned, he was holding a white jar of cream. He unscrewed the lid, sat next to her and held out his palm. She placed both hands in his. They were so small they almost fit in his one hand.

Slowly, he examined the angry red skin that was starting to peel and gently rubbed his thumbs across her palms. "This must sting."

"I'm fine," she said. "I can handle myself."

"Why don't you leave the washing to me from now on?" he asked.

"You already work all day, it's the least I can do."

He looked at her for a moment. For all her bravado and bragging about her wealth, Se-ri was not what Jeong-hyeok had expected.

He started massaging the cream on her hands.

"Ooh, that feels nice," said Se-ri.

"Your hands aren't accustomed to it," he said.

"Well, how do you manage?"

"There's a woman in the village who provides laundry services."

Se-ri gaped. "What? You never said!"

"You never asked," he pointed out.

Se-ri puffed her cheeks in indignation.

"I appreciate the gesture," said Jeong-hyeok, his tone softer now. "But you really didn't need to."

"Hey, what kind of a fake fiancé would I be if I can't even wash my future pretend husband's uniform, hmm?" she asked. "What would the ahjummas say? They'd say I'm not wife material."

"God forbid," he deadpanned.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Mock me all you want but you've never had to listen to the passive-aggressive comments," she huffed. "'Oooh, has our captain lost some weight. Dear me. Is he not enjoying the home cooking?'" she mimicked.

"To be honest, I don't care what the ahjummas say," he said. He paused to look her in the eyes. "Neither should you."

She scoffed. "Easy for you to say – they think you're god's gift to women," she said. "No. No, if I want to keep a low profile I have to blend in with the locals. Besides," she said, looking over her shoulders.

"It's what makes me the top spy in Division 11," she whispered conspiratorially.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling. _She really was enjoying this,_ he thought, shaking his head.

"There," he said, letting go of her hands and putting the cream away.

Her hands did feel better. The stinging had subsided, soothed by the thick cream.

It only occurred to her now that she could've just applied the cream herself.

Se-ri smiled and said, "Thank you, Jeong-hyeoksshi."

"I'll go hang the clothes," he said, standing.

"Okay, but-"

"No buts," he said.

"You don't understand, my-"

"You can put the cream back on the shelf for me and get the ingredients ready for dinner," he said firmly, eyes imploring her to please not argue.

She was actually about to argue but instead nodded and went inside.

 _He really was quite bossy_ , Se-ri observed.

After all the ingredients for the ramyun were neatly arranged on the kitchen counter, she returned to the porch to check on Jeong-hyeok's progress.

He had his back to her as he hung his green cotton military shirts with wooden clothespins.

At one end of the clothesline were her recently purchased lacy panties and bras, neatly arranged and fluttering delicately in the breeze.

Even from the porch, she could see that Jeong-hyeok's ears had turned bright pink.


	3. The Bike Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I write for a living but rarely for fun. This is my first time writing fanfic and I’m absolutely floored by your reactions, feedback and comments (some have made me roar with laughter at 2 am). I still can’t believe people are reading something I’m writing for myself, simply for the sake of writing. And so far I've been having a blast throwing RiRi in different scenarios. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling but to quote our girl Son Ye-jin: “thank you SO much!”

It's been a while since she rode a bike.

The last time Se-ri can remember was a family trip to Mykonos.

With her family being, well, her family, it hadn't been much of a holiday. Her parents were barely speaking and spent most of the time in separate rooms in their expansive rented villa. Se-hyeung and Se-joon were constantly squabbling over who got the room with the best view and, as for Se-ri, no one even noticed her.

She had needed to escape the frostiness indoors.

Se-ri had been walking down the flagstone streets, admiring the indigo sea beyond when a little shack renting bikes caught her attention.

Before she knew it, she was laughing to herself as she blew past whitewashed houses and one startled donkey. She had felt so light and so free.

 _This,_ she had thought to herself. _This must be how those women in yogurt or health drink commercials feel._

She felt that familiar lightness now as she and Jeong-hyeok cycled down the dry bumpy path through the tunnel of trees. The sun winked at them through golden-brown leaves.

It was Jeong-hyeok's day off, so they had set off early for the market on his trusty bike.

With a yellow plastic crate tied to the rear, worn leather handles and a towel-padded seat on the crossbar, the bike had a cobbled-together, yet trusty look.

The company five boys were coming over; Kim Ju-mook and Se-ri had somehow convinced Jeong-hyoek to let him watch a bootleg copy of a Korean drama on his flatscreen TV.

"I refuse to partake in such nonsensical capitalist shenanigans," Pyo Chi-su had snorted, derisively.

"So, don't come then," Se-ri had retorted.

He feigned an air of indifference. "Look here, I don't know how they do things do things in the south, but here they don't take back invitations."

As Se-ri huffed and opened her mouth to answer, Jeong-hyeok had swiftly changed the subject.

Now, the woman sitting in his arms was significantly calmer.

He had reasoned that riding to the market would be better than walking – he did have a basket in the back of his bike for that very purpose. It also had other advantages, not that he would readily admit it.

"I'm thinking of joining the morning Tai Chi classes," said Se-ri. "How do I register?"

"It's not Tai Chi and you don't register like some exclusive country club," he replied. "You just show up."

"Do you go?"

"Never."

"Why not?

"We already have drills and exercises at the base."

"I see," she said, thoughtfully. "But it's a good way to make friends, no?"

He sighed. "I don't really care about making friends."

"Obviously," Se-ri muttered. "Anyway, I don't know how long I'm going to be here, so I think it's important to start an exercise routine, don't you think? Considering all the carbs I've been consuming."

"If you like," he said, mildly.

"Normally, I'd be at a spin or Pilates class."

"I don't know what either of those mean."

"So," she started, excitedly. "Pilates is about improving your flexibility and strengthening your muscles. I'm actually a bit of a pro, not to boast or anything.

"Spinning is when everyone sits on a stationary bike and pedals _really_ fast to loud clubbing music, while the instructor shouts lots of encouraging things," she continued. "You keep pedalling and pedalling until your thighs feel like jelly and your legs feel like they're about to fall off."

"That sounds terrible," he said.

She thought for a moment. "It does, doesn't it? But it's just the thing that people do." She shrugged. "I _think_ the idea is that you're supposed to feel so euphoric with all the endorphins racing through your veins that you won't even notice how awful it is."

He laughed.

"So as I was saying earlier Gun-woo and I were talking," she said.

"Gun-woo? Who's Gun-woo?" he asked.

"The man who sells the organic fresh milk," said Se-ri. "You know him, he shows up right before Hyuk-sun."

" _Who_ is Hyuk-sun?" said Jeong-hyeok, sensing that he'd lost track of the conversation. He'd never heard of these people before.

"The vendor who sells homeware and a mix of other stuff," said Se-ri matter-of-factly, patiently waiting for him to keep up. "He sold me the tomato plant, remember? You said I had overpaid with potatoes."

"Ah," he said.

"Anyway, he felt bad when I mentioned it and that you don't even like tomatoes, so he gave me a bag of chestnuts," she said, triumphantly.

Jeong-hyeok looked down at the top of Seri's head, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Do you know everyone in the village?" he asked.

Se-ri rolled her eyes.

"Of course not," she replied. "That would be-"

"Sam Sook-ah!" A middle-aged man with a tan face and a wide grin was cycling towards them. "The wife says to visit us again soon, bring your fiancé, eh?"

"Oh! Byun-woo," Se-ri called out, waving. "I will."

He bowed as he rode past and gave a wink.

 _Did he just..._ she looked back in confusion. _Strange._

"Anyway," she continued. "How can I possibly know everyone-"

"Off to the market, Sam Sook?" a voice interrupted. They both looked over and saw a woman walking by the side of the road and carrying two shopping bags.

"Don't forget what we talked about," she said, looking at Se-ri and then giving Jeong-hyeok a meaningful look.

"Ah, I won't," she answered.

They rode on in silence for a few seconds.

"Dare I ask?" said Jeong-hyeok.

"Please don't," she said. "Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, as my father says, twice is a coincidence, three is a pattern. And I haven't been here long enough to get to know-"

"Sam Sook!"

 _This is getting ridiculous_ , thought Se-ri.

A woman with rosy cheeks and a straw hat straightened up from a row of giant cabbages. She was enthusiastically waving them over.

"You were saying?" said Jeong-hyeok, as he slowed the bike to a stop.

Se-ri pretended not to hear him. She jumped off the bike and walked over.

"Shin Mi-young," Se-ri greeted the older woman with a bow.

"You're off early," she said, beaming. She was addressing Se-ri but her eyes were firmly on Jeong-hyeok, giving him an appraising look.

"Yes, we're just buying a few things."

"The famous Captain Ri," she said, turning to Se-ri with a meaningful smile. "Lucky girl."

"How are the cabbages?" Se-ri asked.

"Good, good. Look, both of you don't worry about what happened, it's really no big deal," said Mi-young. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Se-ri and Jong-hyeok exchanged looks.

Sensing their confusion, Mi-young chuckled.

"Oh, my husband's friends with one of the coast guards," she said. "He told us everything that happened on that boat ride. Everything."

Se-ri felt her cheeks go warm. Jeong-hyeok swallowed hard.

"Oh goodness, don't be embarrassed, dear. We're very open-minded here," Mi-young was saying in a reassuring voice. "Obviously, we're not like those other old, boring people from the village. No, I was saying to my husband, 'What did they expect two young lovers to do, anyway?' Everyone says so but it's all lies, isn't it?"  
  
"Wh-what is?" Jeong-hyeok asked, a touch of trepidation in his voice.  
  
"No one _really_ waits until their wedding night, do they?" Mi-young stated.

Se-ri couldn't. She just couldn't meet his eyes.

"A late-night boat ride." Mi-young winked at him. "Your fiancé did very well, Sam Sook. Very well indeed. Moonlight and the ocean? He really knows how to set the mood. When my husband and I were your age-" she lamented.

"Ah, how's your son?" Se-ri said, interrupting Mi-young's trip down memory lane and casting Jeong-hyeok a surreptitious glance. His eyes were as wide as saucers.

 _Why did we even stop for a chat?_ Se-ri wondered, only half listening as Mi-young chatted about her son's college application. _And does everyone in this village know everyone??_

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Se-ri, brightly.

Mi-young looked confused.

_Wait, did she just say that her son got rejected? She did._

"I mean, that's terrible," she said, rearranging her expression to a more suitably sombre one. "Ah, goodness, look at the time," said Se-ri sighing exaggeratedly, looking at her wrist.

 _Where's my watch?_ She thought, in a flash of panic.

Oh right. She forgot. A limited-edition Chopard watch. Pawned to buy used clothes. And potatoes.

"We really must go," she said, in a slightly shrill voice. "Right, Jeong-hyeoksshi? They might run out of salmon at the market."

"They don't sell salmon at the market," said Jeong-hyeok, momentarily confused until he noticed the hardened look in Se-ri's eyes. "Yes, yes, we're trying to find salmon," he said, automatically, nodding for effect.

Mi-young's eyes swiveled from Jeong-hyeok to Se-ri and back again.

"Oooh, I know that look," said Mi-young suspiciously, wagging a finger at them.

"I'm sorry?" asked Jeong-hyeok, looking apprehensive.

"It's that look," Mi-young repeated, smiling knowingly. "THE look."

She looked at the two faces, one confused, the other slightly pink.

"That non-verbal language between two people in love," she explained, kindly. "I've seen you both in the village. It's those I'm-in-love eyes – everyone's been talking about how he can't stop staring at you, dear. It's the sweetest thing."

Jeong-hyeok was at a loss for words.

Before Se-ri could divert the conversation, Mi-young started talking about privacy and discretion and open fields.

"And you know what they say."

"What do they say?" Se-ri said, anxious. She knew she was probably going to regret asking.

"Well, as the saying goes, 'If the cornstalks are shaking, don't come checking,'" she said, triumphantly.

In the stunned silence, Se-ri could've sworn she heard a cow drop a patty two mountains away.

"The salmon!" said Se-ri, snapping back to the present and sitting firmly back down on the bike.

"Yes," said Jeong-hyeok in a faint voice. "The salmon."

"See you later, Mi-young," she said loudly and nudging Jeong-hyeok before the woman could share anymore North Korean phrases. "And, uh, may the season bring forth a delight of cabbage blessings!"

The woman waved looking a little confused as they rode away.

"Pedal faster," she said to Jeong-hyeok under her breath. "Don't you dare stop."

"'A delight of cabbage blessings'?" he echoed when they were at a safe distance.

She could hear the amused tone in his voice.

"It's a South Korean saying," she said, dismissively. "You wouldn't understand."

They rode on in momentary silence.

"By the way, you really should stop staring at me so much, Jeong-hyeoksshi," said Se-ri. "You're being too obvious, and people are starting to notice."

Jeong-hyeok was agog. "I don't," he spluttered. "They're making it up."

"Making up the fact that you stare at me or that you're in love with me?" she said looking at him over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. "Which is it?"

"Neither!"

"Hmm," said Se-ri with a shake of her head. "I don't believe you. It's very hard not to like me so I can't really blame you."

He started muttering under his breath.

All she could make out was "crazy... the absolute nonsense she says..."

"What's that?"

"I said, this is why I don't make friends with anyone in the village," he said. "People just gossip all the time."

Se-ri snorted.

"They'd have been talking about us anyway," she said. "At least this way, we know what they're saying."

She had a point; he'll give her that.

"So," he ventured. "Do you really know everything that's happening in the village?"

Se-ri shifted excitedly in her seat. "Yes. Remember the night of the house inspection? Well, you'll never believe it. Na Wol-suk caught Nam Min-woo cheating on his wife with none other than Gun-woo's sister!"

"Wait. The milkman?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes!" Se-ri exclaimed, beaming with pleasure – he had been listening. "Now Gun-woo says he's too embarrassed to show his face in the village but Myeong-sun assured him that it had nothing to do with him, poor man. Also, where's the village going to get fresh milk? Although, I am lactose intolerant..."

As he pedalled on, Jeong-hyeok listened as Se-ri regaled him with tales of Wol-suk's house inspections. "... she said we could all take turns with the rice cooker. You like sticky rice, don't you? Anyway..."

The breeze was still cool, but the morning sun was warm on his face. He found the sound of her voice soothing. In their proximity, strands of Se-ri's hair tickled Jeong-hyeok's chin. Each time he inhaled he caught the scent of the orange blossom fragrance of her ponytail.

As they pedalled along the clay-hued path towards a hazy horizon, he felt something taut slowly unfurling in his chest. Se-ri had moved on now – she was talking about naming his tomato plant – and he allowed himself a tiny smile.

It was strange, he thought. That it took him this long to realize that orange blossom was his favourite scent.


	4. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took a while! Thanks, everyone for your patience. Massive thanks to @rulesthegalaxy (author of the fantastic 'Front Page News') for the valuable feedback. This chapter was somewhat inspired by Jeremy Strong's 'The Karate Princess', my all-time favourite book as a little girl. I'm also over on Wattpad but if you'd like to chat, you can find me rambling about my BinJin theories on Twitter @EdnaMode_101.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all your lovely and thoughtful comments! x

Over rows of freshly caught fish, Se-ri and the man in the apron regarded each other through narrowed eyes.

"I'm only starting to get used to saying this," Se-ri said evenly to the man behind the counter. "But I don't have that much money."

"Lady, how am I supposed to turn a profit?" argued the seafood vendor equally reasonably. He was desperately raking a hand through his hair, which was already standing on end from this endless back and forth.

"Well, I'm not paying _that_ much for such a tiny piece of salmon," huffed Se-ri. "You must be joking."

He stared at her helplessly then turned to Jeong-hyeok with a pleading expression. They had been at it for the last five minutes; to Jeong-hyeok it felt more like thirty. He hated negotiating.

"We'll buy one kilo," said Jeong-hyeok, stepping in before the poor man started tearing his hair out in frustration.

Se-ri looked at him, annoyed.

"Hyaa," she muttered under her breath. She gave him a stern look that said, _Can't you see I'm getting us a good price?_

Jeong-hyeok suppressed a sigh and turned back to the shop owner. "And could you also please give us a good price?"

The man eyed Se-ri warily, then Jeong-hyeok.

"Fine, _fine_ ," he conceded, putting on gloves and grabbing a slab of salmon and weighing it on a creaky blue scale.

"And, sir?" Se-ri ventured.

"Hmm," the man grunted.

"Could you maybe, if you could be so kind, _maybe_ add a little extra?" asked Se-ri in a syrupy voice.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're killing me here," he said, shaking his head, but added a few extra pieces to the scale anyway.

Se-ri clapped her hands together in delight. "Thank you! You're the best seafood vendor here."

"But I'm the only seafood vendor here."

"Still, I'll tell all my friends about you," promised Se-ri, unfazed.

He stared at her.

"Lady," he said, unimpressed, "if they haggle like you, then please don't."

* * *

Laden with shopping bags full of vegetables, fruit and salmon, Jeong-hyeok and Se-ri walked through the market that was soon filling with other shoppers.

A North Korean pop song was blaring from boxy grey speakers that Se-ri hadn't seen since the nineties. A bored vendor was filing her nails as a customer carefully picked through a pile of shiny oversized eggplants. Chickens clucked angrily in haphazardly stacked coops. Steam billowed from huge vats of stew as attendants scooped them into plastic containers. All around them was the sound of people greeting each other, vendors trying to get customers' attention and good-natured haggling.

It was a world away from the sleek and sterile supermarkets in Seoul and Se-ri soaked it in with wide-eyed curiosity.

"I think that's everything," Jeong-hyeok said, carefully studying the list in Se-ri's neat, feminine handwriting. "Do you want anything else?"

But she wasn't paying attention.

Jeong-hyeok looked up to find himself at a familiar stall staring at a friendly face.

"Lim Sung-mi," Se-ri said. "This is Ri Jeong-hyeok."

The woman's eyes widened in recognition. How could she forget? He'd been one of her best customers, having cleaned her out of her supply of man:yo skincare. She remembered her amusement as he had awkwardly looked away the moment she showed him her range of women's underwear.

"So _she's_ the one you've been shopping for," she said, finally putting two and two together.

"Um, yes," Jeong-hyeok said flatly, blushing a little as he remembered some of his recent purchases.

Sung-mi beamed. "You're one of my best customers," she teased.

Jeong-hyeok wasn't quite sure how to respond so he remained silent. Sensing his discomfort, Se-ri glanced at him in concern. And then it came to her: the generously sized Venus bra in fire engine red. She tried not to laugh.

"Aigo," sighed Sung-mi, smiling at Jeong-hyeok. "Do you know how talented your fiancée is?"

He gave Se-ri a quizzical look.

Sung-mi looked around, ensuring no one was within earshot. "I've been selling out of all my products from down south because of her," she whispered, excitedly. "She knows what she's talking about. Because of her, I have a waiting list and even my next shipment is sold out. She's a great businesswoman."

 _I bet she is_ , he thought, looking at Se-ri with a mix of fondness and admiration.

"So let's see it," said Se-ri excitedly, leaning over the table.

" _This_ is my new range," Sung-mi said, proudly brandishing her display of contraband beauty products with the flip of a curtain.

"Saselomo!" exclaimed Se-ri, recognizing the logo. "They're our Chinese competitor."

"Your competitor?"

"I mean," Se-ri faltered. "Uh, they're in competition with Se-ri's Choice."

Jeong-hyeok shot her a look and she met his eyes sheepishly. _Oops._

But Sung-mi hadn't seemed to notice her slip-up.

"So how would you compare their brightening properties with ma:nyo, Mediheal and Seri's Choice?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm so glad you asked," Se-ri said, delighted as she launched into a point by point comparison of each brand.

"Wow." Sung-mi sighed in admiration. "You should do this for a living."

Se-ri laughed, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Maybe I should."

Then she caught sight of Jeong-hyeok's expression. His eyes had glazed over, his distant gaze fixed at nothing in particular.

"Actually, do you mind if I stick around for a few minutes, Ri Jeong-hyeok-ssi?" asked Se-ri, taking pity on him. "I've just got a few things that I want to discuss with her."

He looked relieved.

"I'd actually like to go and check on something, too. Will you be okay?" he asked Se-ri.

"Of course."

"Then I'll meet you over by the butcher's in fifteen minutes."

Se-ri nodded.

With that, she watched him stride off into the crowd, tall and hard to miss.

* * *

A few minutes later, Se-ri was making her way towards the butcher's stall, a small cellophane-wrapped basket of free beauty products tucked under her arm – a thank you present from Sung-mi.

 _Pyo Chi-su's going to die of jealousy_ , Se-ri thought, eyeing the products in the basket with a satisfied smile.

That was when she spotted Chi Sung-ji.

The last time she saw the young boy, they had caught him trying to steal Jeong-hyeok's jacket. But the day had ended with him having dinner with them as he told them about his life alone with his sister.

Whereas before his cheeks had been smudged with dirt, this time, he looked healthier and his face was scrubbed clean.

He was standing by a food stall with a young girl beside him. She was standing on tiptoe and pointing at a pastry. He nodded and took out a wad of cash and started carefully counting the notes to hand to the attendant.

As Se-ri walked over to greet them, she noticed a man dash into view, looming far too close to the children. He snatched the money from the boy's outstretched hand and shoved him and the girl to the ground. The little girl let out a startled cry.

In a panic, Se-ri realized the man was running straight towards her.

She reacted before she could process the situation.

On instinct, she stuck out her left foot just as he was about to pass her.

She grimaced as she felt the man's weight get caught on her ankle. He let out a small squeak. They both stared at each other in horror as, almost in slow motion, he went sailing across the air, his arms flailing helplessly on his sides.

A strangled yelp. A muffled curse. A dull thud as face made contact with dry earth. There was a collective gasp from nearby shoppers.

Se-ri whirled around and feigned shock, staring at the crumpled heap on the ground.

"I'm _so_ sorry, sir," Seri said in her best over-the-top actress voice.

The man spluttered angrily as he scrambled to stand, dusting himself off. But before he could make a run for it, Seri grabbed his arm.

"Sir, are you okay?"

He looked at the tiny woman in surprise.

"I saw what you did," she said, her grip surprisingly tight on his arm. "Give those children back their money."

"What?" he spat out. "Get lost. They're useless beggars- ga-ahhh!"

Without thinking, Se-ri had twisted his arm and flipped his wrist in a hold.

By now a rapt audience had gathered around them.

"He's okay," she said, smiling her reassuring crescent-eyed smile as she gripped the writhing man. "He's just hurt his arm."

"Let go," he growled in her face as he tried to pull away and extricate Se-ri's fingers from his arm. But she wouldn't budge. He stared, alarmed by the strength of this tiny woman.

"Look here," she said under her breath through a fake smile. "Give their money back."

"Or what?" he sneered, slightly panting as he continued to tug his arm away.

It turned into a ludicrous tug of war: him struggling to get away, as Se-ri, using all her weight to pull him in place, dug the heels of sneakers into the ground. Her fingers were tight around his elbow and she had his wrist in a vice-like grip.

 _How is she so strong?_ he wondered in dismay as pain shot up his arm.

"Or what? Or I can make it hurt, that's what. You don't want to mess with me," she threatened between gritted teeth. "I know Pilates."

Confusion flashed across his face.

"What?"

"Oh. It's a strengthening technique that also relieves lower back pain."

A pause. Curiosity got the better of him.

"Does it... does it work?" he asked, finally.

"It does, actually," answered Se-ri, momentarily sidetracked. "It's great for your core."

"Huh," he said, thoughtfully. "Good for back pain you say?"

"Very," she answered.

Then, sensing her attention was momentarily diverted, he tried to wriggle away with renewed vigour.

"It's also good for killing men who steal from little children," she said in a fierce whisper, tightening her hold.

"You're crazy," he said.

She smiled sweetly. "Maybe I am."

"Let. Go. You dumb bitch."

She pressed a little harder. A wince and a whimper.

"Return the money or I promise you if you run, you're going to have to drag me with you."

After a moment, he slowly loosened his fist, finger by finger. Se-ri snatched the crumpled notes away from view.

"Good choice, sir," she murmured, letting go.

"I think my entire arm's gone numb," he gasped, rubbing his wrist. She attempted to pat his shoulder, but he jumped away.

"Sorry, again," she added in a louder voice, bowing for the benefit of their audience. "Very clumsy of me."

He glared at her, cradling his arm. "You know you're insane, right?" he spat out.

Se-ri smiled serenely and gave him a dinky wave.

"Take care of yourself and don't forget," she said. "It's Pilates."

He shot her one last angry look before hurrying away through the crowd, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the smiling lunatic in the pink cardigan.

* * *

Realizing that the show was over, the shoppers turned their attention back to haggling over fresh produce.

Se-ri spotted Sung-ji and the girl staring at her with mouths slightly open.

She rushed over to them and asked, "Are you alright?"

They both nodded.

"Sung-ji, is this your sister?"

"Yes, this is Se-bin," he said. "Se-bin, this is Comrade Sam Sook. She's the one who gave us the blanket and the food."

Se-ri smiled at the little girl with the pigtails. Se-bin retreated a few steps behind her brother, one eye peeking at her from behind his sleeve.

"Our aunt had given us money to buy some snacks and the man stole it," Sung-ji was explaining, sounding close to tears. "I... I couldn't run after him because he pushed my sister."

"Are you kidding? You were so brave and that was absolutely the right thing to do," Se-ri said, patting his arm in assurance. Then a thought occurred to her. "Wait, did you mention your aunt?"

"Yes," said Sung-ji, suddenly excited. "Remember I told you about her? She had been looking for us this whole time. A few days after I met you, she found us right here. We live with her now and go to school and everything. I'm in grade two."

He said it with such pride, Se-ri could feel her heart swell with joy for this little boy who was wise beyond his years.

"I believe this is yours," she said.

The bundle of old notes that she handed him was slightly thicker now, as Se-ri had deftly added some money from her skirt pocket. Then she reached into her cloth shopping bag and pulled out two large peaches.

"Here," Se-ri said, handing one to each child. "These are for you."

"Is everything okay?" came a familiar baritone voice.

"Captain Ri!" said Sung-ji, standing to attention and saluting.

Jeong-hyeok saluted back.

"A thief took our money, but Comrade Sam Sook got it back," said Sung-ji.

"Good," he said, gently ruffling the boy's hair.

"Is she your wife?" came a small voice.

Everyone stared at Se-bin, who had stepped out from behind her brother.

Se-ri waited for Jeong-hyeok to answer. Instead, he crouched down with a smile that made his eyes crinkle.

"Hello, my name's Jeong-hyeok," he said, gently. "What's yours?"

"I'm Se-bin," said the little girl, eyeing him curiously. "I'm four years old."

She held out a palm to demonstrate her age on five fingers, then corrected herself and splayed out four fingers.

"It's very nice to meet you, Se-bin, and that's a very good age to be."

The little girl gestured for Jeong-hyeok to come closer.

He leaned in and she cupped a small hand to his ear.

"Your wife," she said in a loud whisper. "She's very pretty."

Se-ri laughed and adjusted the bag on her shoulder, suddenly self-conscious.

"I know," Jeong-hyeok whispered back. They both turned to look at Se-ri.

Se-bin stared at her in wonder, thoughts of long-haired karate princesses swirling through her mind. Jeong-hyeok, on the other hand, stared at Se-ri with an inscrutable gaze that made her pulse beat just a tiny bit faster.

* * *

As they talked, a middle-aged woman rushed up to the children, her face lined with worry.

"I thought I lost you two again," she said frantically, her voice cracking slightly. Sung-ji brightened at the sight of her and excitedly recounted what had happened: the pastry, the money, Sam Sook catching the thief.

Se-ri noticed that while the woman's clothes looked old and slightly worn, the children's clothes looked new. Se-bin had hurriedly clung to her aunt's leg and absentmindedly sucked on her thumb. The woman listened to Sung-ji intently as she lovingly stroked the little girl's hair.

"Well, I don't know how to thank you," she said to Se-ri and Jeong-hyeok.

Se-ri assured her that it was nothing – she was simply happy to know that the children were safe.

Finally, they said their goodbyes and Se-ri and Jeong-hyeok watched the family of three walk away, hand in hand.

"Time to go home?" said Se-ri and he nodded.

As they walked back to the bike, he asked, "Are you... alright? Were you hurt by that man earlier?"

There was that look again. His eyes were full of concern.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Like I said, that man, he just tripped."

"I saw. Very clumsy of him."

"Hmm." She nodded grimly, pursing her lips until she caught the look on his face. He was making fun of her.

"How much of that did you see?"

"Enough to realize that you should probably be the one guarding me," he said, a hint of dimples on his cheeks.

Se-ri bit back a smile as they reached his bicycle.

"By the way, I gave away some of your peaches," she said, a guilty look on her face. "Sorry about that," she added.

He watched her for a moment from the corner of his eyes as they loaded their shopping bags into the bike's yellow crate.

"It's okay," he said, kindly. "I should be used to you giving away my stuff by now."

Se-ri chuckled. He mounted the bike and held it steady for her as she snuggled down on her seat.

After checking that she was comfortable, she felt him put his weight on the pedals, pushing them forward and away from the now bustling market.

"And, hey, I don't give away _everything_ ," she bristled. "I got you that tomato plant."

" _After_ you traded it for half a sack of potatoes," he pointed out.

"Pssh. It's the thought that counts," she grumbled.

"Hmm. So thoughtful you tried to give away my TV?"

"Oh," she said in a bored voice. "You're still bitter about that?"

She heard him make an indignant noise.

"Do you really think Ju-meok would pass up a chance to meet Choi Ji-woo?" Se-ri asked.

"Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"What? 'Stairway to Heaven'?" she asked, swiveling around to look at him. "It's about love and destiny?"

He stared at her blankly. None. Nothing. Zero recognition.

"Oh, never mind. I swear it's like you live under a rock," she muttered. "Trust me. Ju-meok would never have chosen the TV."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what if he had?"

"But he didn't," she insisted, glancing at him over her shoulder. "I'm a good judge of character."

"That's not the point," Jeong-hyeok said, exasperated.

Se-ri lectured him on the pitfalls of materialism. Jeong-hyeok lectured her back on the special relationship between a man and his TV.

"By the way," he said. "Where did you learn that move?"

She was hesitant to tell him.

"I saw it on TV," she admitted, slightly shamefaced.

She couldn't help but giggle when he laughed out loud, in the way that he only seemed to laugh whenever she was around.

But her smile dulled a little as she felt an unexpected twinge of longing.

For at that moment, Se-ri realized two things: first, that it would soon be time for her to return home – her real home. And second, that she liked being the one to make Ri Jeong-hyeok laugh.


End file.
